


Equal

by Rahn (Rahndom)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahndom/pseuds/Rahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex lost his first love to desperation, drugs and alcohol, and he won’t let Brucie destroy the beautiful Tim Drake like he destroyed himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equal

There was an exhilarating feeling in playing fool with Luthor. The teasing of two minds that could have been equals, unique in their own right but oh, so similar and precious, so perfect together and yet so far away from eachother. And the disappointment in Alex’s - he would always call him Alex, despite Luthor’s protests, they were school buddies after all - face whenever a cleverly veiled insult flew over Brucie’s head without any acknowledgement was enough to send a rush of pride in his own skills through Bruce’s body.

Therefore, when he stood in front of a group of zealous reporters, eyes wide and smile dopey as Luthor shook his head at him in pretended fondness, and he announced that Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp were hosting a Benefit Chess Game between the heads of both companies, which most society would translate as: ‘come and see Luthor kick Wayne’s drug-addled brain’s ass.’

It was promised to be carnage of epic proportions, with tickets sold out despite their outrageous prices and everyone who was important wanted to be part of the joyful intellectual pummeling they all thought the cocky and slightly retarded Wayne head deserved.

Which was why many groaned in dismay when the news came that Brucie had broken his leg as he was skiing in Switzerland with a blond and a brunette and sheepishly announced he was sending his son in as a replacement. Others, vicious gossip mongrels that they were, started betting over which the beautiful Wayne children would be sent to replace the dreadful father and, some said, molester.

Many betted on Richard, the eldest, who Brucie often said specialized on law enforcement - how cute and plebeian - because he was more used to the social graces that came with Bruce Wayne’s life.

Some actually had the gall to bet on the second son, the one who, allegedly, faked his own death to escape to a monastery in China, only to come back so messed up that he would be sent from time to time to Arkham itself under many aliases, much to the shame of the family. He would be the one chosen, they said, because while violent and insane, he was Brucie’s favorite and would prove to be entertaining to the simple millionaire.

Some, more cunning, betted on Cassandra, the autistic daughter, because they could see that Lex Luthor wouldn’t know how to react to her and would lose because of it -there weren’t many if any rumors regarding the young woman and the hungry mouths of socialites all over the country are starving for something - thus they are hoping she pulled a Rainman on dear old Lex and humiliated his social graces.

Finally, there was the small group that betted on Damian, the youngest, the stoic child with eyes of a beast, that they wish could look at Luthor down with his indomitable strength and mark the turn of the new millennia, the final defeat of the Luthor against the Wayne. Show them the new financial leader they could all line up behind.

None, however, expected Brucie to limp into the stage with a small smile on his handsome face, holding a pale hand in his own. Lex raised an eyebrow, staring into the intelligent blue eyes of the boy before him, into the calm smile and the flushed cheeks.

Whispers broke wild among the spectators who couldn’t believe they had forgotten Wayne’s latest adoption; the wonder boy they all knew was destined to inherit the business. The one they knew had been brought for Brucie’s passion only to find a brilliant mind underneath the plainness of his features.

“Mr. Luthor, is an honor to compete on the board against you,” the boy said cheerfully, offering his hand for the older man to shake.

“Indeed, Mr. Drake,” he greeted back. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you over Drake Industries.”

Tim smiled pleasantly, his eyes sparkling in hidden delight that made something in Lex’s insides coil and shift with pleasure before Bruce had planted a hand on Tim’s shoulder, frowning in the same way Lex remembered form their school years.

“Timmy, please, no business talk today,” Bruce reminded the boy, his thumb caressing his shoulder. “You promised.”

Tim laughed his soft-shy-tender laugh and nodded at the older man.

“Of course, Bruce, I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

Lex sighed, staring at the board and trying to pretend he didn’t wish Bruce was the one sitting in front of him like the days before his so-called sabbatical. He would have to admit, if only to himself, that he had been in love with the brilliant mind that had been Bruce Wayne, the analytical brain and composed pose of a king in the making.

But then Bruce had gone away only to return a muscled Adonis with a brain fried by drugs and alcohol to the point of utter disbelief and Lex realized the crush he had been nursing for years was dead, the man he had loved and admired lost forever.

The unstoppable duo he had envisioned in his head never to see the light of day.

He hated Bruce a little for robbing him of his dreams, but in the end he understood that his crush couldn’t deal with the ghosts of his failures and the memory of the parents that had died before his very eyes and had chosen oblivion as his only way out.

Had he loved his father, only a little, he might have done the same.

And now, here he was, reliving the past little by little as Timothy Drake – Janet’s boy, definitely Janet’s boy instead of Jack’s – stared at the board with eyes of glass, lips pursed in thought.

A pawn was brought forwards.  

Lex raised an eyebrow, surprised at the boy’s immediate offensive.

He replied in kind, of course and blinked when Timothy simply sent on one of his knights.

Most of their audience blinked in confusion, while the rest – more used to the intrinsic nature of chess – awed at the battle slowly unfolding before their very eyes.

Lex continued to hold his place, preparing his side of the board for the attack Timothy was setting when the boy’s soft laughter reached his ears.

Their eyes met.

“Please, Mr. Luthor,” Timothy said, tilting his head. “Do take off your kid-gloves.”

A smirk curled Lex’s lips.

“If you insist, Mr. Drake,” he replied, cracking his knuckles.

Off to a side, Lex noticed how Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a second, his own lips pursing as he sat straighter in his seat, his arms crossing over his chest in displeasure.

Timothy blinked at his mentor, his face the very image of angelic disbelief while his eyes held the mischievousness of a devil. Then his fingers seemed to swing gently, as if driven by an unearthly force to slowly push the bishop towards Lex’s own knight.

Among the crowd, Lex could hear muted gasps of disbelief.

He laughed.

“You asked for it,” he whispered, reaching for his queen.

“Indeed,” Tim said happily, eyes alight with the challenge.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head.

Lex smiled, exhilarated.

Was this the same excitement of his youth? The same that had driven him to lust after Bruce? Yes, it was. It was all challenge and mystery and genius trapped in slender hands, in bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce into his soul, asking: ‘What’s next, Alexander?’ and left him shivering in delight.

The same slow curving of thin lips and slow batting of eyelashes that made his insides curl and coil, snakes of pure intellectual pleasure slithering through his blood and warming his whole body.

Yes, he thought, yes, more, more of this, more of you.

Bruce placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder once more, eyes determined, but was interrupted when that geeky reporter from The Daily Planet asked a question out of him, good man, Lex thought, he might donate to the newspaper provided he always accompanied future duels between LexCorp and Wayne Enterprises.

Before either of them noticed half an hour had passed, each player missing more and more pieces as the minutes ticked by. Lex had never felt younger, more alive, than in that infinite minute of deliberation that he took before attacking young Mr. Drake.

“Enjoying yourself, Mr. Luthor?” Lois Lane asked, inquisitive smile in her ruby lips.

“Immensely,” Lex said, moving his rook towards Timothy’s King.

“And you, Tim?” Vicky Vale laughed, eyes glinting.

“I…” the boy said, eyes staring into Lex’s determined ones before his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I just..”

“Don’t be shy, boy,” Vale encouraged. “Say whatever you want, the world wants to hear you!”

“I…” he hesitated, his fingers dancing over the board, deliberating.

Lex thought he might just let himself soar in this little duel of them both, on this perfect joining of two brilliant minds, but the hesitant light on those pale blue eyes, the way his cheeks were coloring shyly.

Maybe he should have gone easy on poor Timothy?

Maybe he frightened the young boy with his enthusiasm?

No, he didn’t want to scare him, he wanted to share his brilliance, impress Timothy and try to lure him to his side.

Don’t waste your intelligence with Bruce, he had wanted to express with his movements, I already lost him, I don’t want you to lose yourself in his madness.

“Tim?” Bruce asked, approaching them. .

“I…” Tim hesitated once more. “I really wanted this to last longer…”

The press fell into a shocked silence, the rest of the crowd stood from their seats, eyes wide.

Lex’s own eyes widened when Timothy’s shoulders slumped sadly, his eyes set on the board as his slender fingers reaching for a pawn he had completely ignored until then and reluctantly dragging it on.

“Check Mate, Mr. Luthor,” he whispered, his whole face aflame.

Gotham’s elite burst into applause while the Metropolis’ social powers gapped. Bruce yelped happily, wrapping his arms around a mortified boy. Cameras snapped pictures wildly and Lex only had eyes for the boy currently covering his face with both hands.

“You are wonderful, Tim!” Brucie laughed loudly, ruffling his protégé’s hair.

Timothy shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” he mumbled, eyes set on the board.

Lex shook his head, carefully taking the boy’s hand in his own.

“Rematch, Mr. Drake?” he asked, a small smile breaking from his lips. “Perhaps a private one, next time?”

Tim’s eyes lit up with cunning interest.

Bruce’s narrowed jealously.

Lex smirked, offering his hand to the teen.

“I… I would love that, Mr. Luthor,” the boy said slowly, shaking the man’s hand.

“I’m sure that can be arranged, Alex,” Bruce said. “You should contact Lucius and set an appointment though, Tim is really busy.”

Both men glared at eachother over the boy’s head.

From the part of the audience that Lex has already dubbed the ‘Gotham Crowd’ the rest of Bruce’s children burst as if summoned by the tension alone.

Grayson dragged Timothy into a tight embrace, already congratulating his ‘little brother’ for a feat as impressive as defeating the head of LexCorp by himself, the mute girl joined the embrace lightly, her hands caressing Tim’s flushed cheeks.

Todd sighed, patting Timothy’s shoulder awkwardly and the little demon, Bruce’s legitimate one, huffed, tugging on the teen’s hand.

“Let’s go, Drake,” he demanded. “Todd owes us all dinner.”

“You betted against me?” Timothy pouted, staring at the taller young man.

“He’s fucking Lex Luthor,” the other man shrugged.

Bruce smirked once more before he took Lex’s hand and shook it forcefully, locking their eyes with the primal challenge of one who knows another is trying to poach in their territory. Lex held his gaze unwaveringly.

“Until next time, Alex?” he asked, eyes straying to the group of teens. “As you can see my children have planned a celebration.”

“Of course, Bruce,” Lex said evenly, following the group with his eyes as Grayson and Cain dragged Timothy away from him. Hm, clever kids, Bruce had managed to get for himself.

No matter.

It had been almost ten years since he had felt such exhilaration while encountering an equally challenging mind, and even if he had to bribe, threaten or even destroy to save young Timothy from Bruce’s malicious influence, he would consider the effort well worth it.

He was not about to lose another brilliance like that to the vices that had cost him his first crush.

Not again. 


End file.
